


Welcome to the family

by EnchantingWriting



Series: The Adventures of the Ridiculously Large Jacobs Family and Co. [4]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Adoption, Childbirth, Crutchie-centric, Davey Jacobs Interacting With Children, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Irish Language, Medical Inaccuracies, Period-Typical Sexism, Yiddish, anti-Semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:58:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnchantingWriting/pseuds/EnchantingWriting
Summary: “Twins?” Mr. Jacobs repeated.“I’m not concerned. My nurse and I both believe that the first baby should be coming in the next forty-five minutes. Hang in there, Mr. Jacobs.” With that, he disappeared into the bedroom again.“Twins,” Mr. Jacobs said again, half to himself.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Two months after the Jacobs family adopted him, Crutchie is still trying to understand what it means to be a part of a family again. After his adoptive mother goes into labor, he realizes just how much his new family has come to mean to him.





	Welcome to the family

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for discussions of the loss of a parent, a child, and a sibling.

“We’re home!” Les yelled as he barreled through the front door. Davey and Crutchie followed him at a much slower pace.

Sitting at the dinner table, Sarah shot her little brother an annoyed look. “Youse sold papers for _ten_ hours today! How are youse not exhausted?”

“It’s _Les_ ,” Davey said with a grin, elbowing her side as he sat down next to her.

“I think he was a squirrel in a past life,” Crutchie stage whispered. He tilted his head. Their flat was unusually silent. “Where’s everyone?”

“Ellie, Susan, Lottie, and Sammy were bein’ crazy an’ Mam’s really tired. I told Essie she could wear my new hair ribbon to mass on Sunday if she’d take them to play in the back lot while I made dinner,” Sarah said, gesturing to the pot on the coal stove.

“What about Lou?” Davey asked.

“Readin’ on the fire escape,” she reported. “I wanted the front room empty so I could make dinner in peace. I swear, it’s like I’m raisin’ all of youse.”

Davey shifted awkwardly. As the oldest girl in the family, it often fell on Sarah to take care of her younger siblings. Davey, Jonny, and Crutchie helped out when they could, but they worked all day. Sarah worked the night shift at a factory. She slept in the early morning to mid-afternoon, and then spent her afternoons helping Alannah look after the children, especially toddler Samuel. However, with Alannah due to give birth any day now, she had basically assumed the role of homemaker. Sarah rarely complained, but sometimes Davey wondered if his sister wanted more in life than just taking cares of her mother’s babies and working. She saw her friends from church and the factory and their old school days all the time, though, so she had other outlets.

But sometimes when he saw his sister turn to greet him with Sammy in her arms and Lottie and Susan clinging to her skirts, he could see her doing the exact same thing in ten years, at age twenty-three. By then she’d probably be married and have two or three children, maybe even four. Their mother had four by age twenty-three. At thirty-six, she was having her twelfth child.

Yet of the eleven children Alannah had birthed, only ten still lived. There could have been an older sister that Sarah could split the work with.

Davey’s eyes strayed to a framed picture of a smiling girl with black curls on the mantle. _M_ _á_ _ire._ His older sister, born just a year before him. He remembered toddling after her and Jonny when he was little. He remembered her singing silly songs with Pop. She’d been so excited when Sarah and then Louise were born. Two little sisters for her to dote on and play with—

Davey had been five when Máire suddenly got sick. His fearless older sister wasted away and died in less than a week. Pop didn’t sing silly songs anymore, and Jonny didn’t want to play any games. Mam cried and cried and cried. Sarah and Lou, too young to understand, toddled after Davey. Sarah kept asking where Máire was. Davey told her she was in Heaven because Jesus wanted her back. Sarah shoved him and said that she needed Máire more than Jesus did before she stormed off.

Two years ago, Davey asked Sarah if she remembered Máire. Sarah had just shaken her head, her dark eyes ashamed. Davey never mentioned their sister again.

He wondered if Máire could have taken some of the burden off Sarah. Maybe his little sister wouldn’t have such dark circles under her eyes if his older sister was still around.

“Davey, can we practice solitaire?” Les’s question jerked Davey back to reality. Davey locked his grief back up in its box and grinned at his little brother.

“Of course.”

* * *

 

Jonny and Henryk arrived home about an hour later. Henryk had found a job at a factory near the docks, where he used to work until he got hit by a truck and shattered his leg. Now permanently crippled, he needed to walk with a cane. After months of searching for a job, the factory agreed to hire him on the condition that they didn’t have to pay him a full day’s wage. Henryk Jacobs was just a crippled Jew to them, after all—practically useless. For a man who used to make three dollars a day, bringing home eighty cents a day made him feel ashamed.

Sarah began dishing dinner as soon as they got home. Les rounded up all the little kids. Crutchie woke up Alannah while Davey set the table. Once the family was assembled, they muttered a quick prayer before digging in.    

“Where’s Jack?” Henryk asked. Jack was Alannah’s nephew. He sold papers with Crutchie, Davey, and Les.  After being estranged from the family for years after the death of his mother and Alannah’s sister, a series of extraordinary coincidences led to him being reunited with them. He usually stopped by for dinner a couple times a week.

“He an’ the fellas was gettin’ grub at Jacobi’s,” Crutchie explained.

“How’s the new job goin’?” Jonny asked Jack this question every time he came over.

“Says Pulitzer works him hard, but he likes the drawin’ an’ he ain’t complainin’,” Les reported. “He ain’t on his feet all day, too, so he says that’s a plus.”

“That lad’s goin’ places,” Henryk said. He looked at his veritable horde of children and grinned crookedly. “Youse all are.”

Alannah’s hands rested on her huge stomach and smiled a bit.

“She’s kickin’,” she reported.

“I think it’s a boy,” Jonny said.

This caused a ten-minute argument over the baby’s gender. If it was a girl, she would be Róisín, a name that Jack himself picked out. Henryk wanted a more traditional Jewish name if the child was male. He had suggested Joel Moshe, a name that Alannah also adored. However, she was adamant that she was carrying a girl.

“We are outnumbered already, Mam,” Les groaned.

“We need another girl,” Essie insisted.

“ _Doch ( **Oh certainly *sarcastic*)**_!” Crutchie said with an exaggerated eye roll. His family shot him confused looks. They did not understand German, but had picked up a few words here and there since Crutchie’s adoption. _Doch_ was not one of them. “I can’t say it in English, but it basically means I ain’t in agreement with her,” Crutchie added.

“ _Doch_ , then,” Henryk said. “Another boy would be nice.”

“The last one was a boy!” Alannah gestured to Sammy. “And we are _very_ happy God blessed us with a son, macushla,” she assured the toddler. He grinned at her widely and shoved another piece of potato in his mouth.

“We also got three girls in a row. Two boys in a row would be a nice way to mix it up,” Les pointed out.

“So youse don’t like me or Susan or Lottie?” Ellie said with a mischievous grin.

Les’s face reddened, and his sisters all laughed at him. “’Course not! I just think a baby boy would be fun. Sammy’s gettin’ big now, like one of them Brooklyn boys.”

“Spot Conlon?” Sammy said, his eyes wide. “Me?”

“He ain’t a big Brooklyn boy, Sam. Conlon’s a shrimp,” Crutchie laughed. “He’s shorter than _me_.”

“Ain’t no ‘un shorter’n _Crutchie_ ,” Lottie whispered. “No way.”

Susan elbowed her. “ _Youse_ shorter than him, _nudnik_ ( ** _pest_** )!”

“Susan, do not call your sister mean names,” Henryk scolded.

“ _Zay moykhl_ ( ** _Sorry_** ),” Susan muttered. Lottie patted her hand. All was forgiven.

“I’m just saying, another boy would even the playing field. It would be six girls and six boys,” Davey added.

“We will meet the newest bairn soon enough, macushla,” Alannah said with a yawn. She stood up and began barking orders like a drill sergeant. Her kids gave each other exasperated yet fond looks. “Lester an’ Alec, youse do the dishes. Essie, ye wipe down the table an’ countertop. Eleanor, come help me put Sammy to bed. Susan an’ Lottie, sweep the floor. Sarah an’ Lou need to be gettin’ to work soon.” Alannah’s pregnancy was too far along for her to be working nights at the factory, so Lou was taking over her shift until she could return to work.

They all went about their chores. David, Jonny, and Henryk went to the fire escape to talk for a few minutes. This was a routine that they had started up recently. Henryk lit his pipe and sighed heavily. 

“You alright, Pop?” Davey shot his father a concerned look.

“Did Jack visit Francis Sullivan yet?” Henryk spoke the name with disgust. He was not fond of his wife’s brother-in-law and Jack’s father, a mobster imprisoned on Blackwell Island. Jack had not seen his father in almost seven years; Frankie thought his son was dead. Alannah wanted Jack to at least see him once, but the boy was not ready yet.

“Not yet,” Davey said. “I don’t blame him.”

Henryk snorted. “It’s Frankie’s fault he’s in there. He was always sayin’, ‘I got a wife an’ kid to take care of, I need to run with the Mob.’ What a schmuck. No matter how many kids I had, I _never_ considered joining the Mob. You boys better always make an honest livin’, you hear me? I’ve worked hard every day of my life, and I’ve been blessed beyond measure.”

Davey eyed his father. He had dark circles under his eyes, his handsome face was showing signs of age, and he walked with a cane. His clothes were old and mended, and his cap was battered. He lived in a slum with a high crime rate. His employers refused to pay him a full wage because he was disabled. Yet he still said he was blessed.

Henryk saw David’s dubious look. “Listen, my son,” he said. From within the apartment, one could hear Alannah singing Sammy to sleep. The little girls were giggling about something, and Les and Crutchie bickered affectionately as they did the dishes. “I married the love of my life, and I have as many children as Jacob did. I just ate a hot meal cooked by the woman I adore. I may limp, yes, but I survived gettin’ hit by a truck. My life is good.

“You two will understand someday, when you are married and have families of your own. You are good boys, the both of youse. You really stepped it up after I got laid off. You were the men of the family when I couldn’t be. I appreciate it,” Henryk said thickly.

Jonny clasped his father’s shoulder. “What brought all of this on, Pop?” he said with a slight grin. “You gettin’ sentimental on us now?”

“With another baby comin’, it’s makin’ me realizes my older ones are all grown up now,” Henryk murmured. “And one will never grow up.”

“You mean Máire?” Jonny said.

“I was thinking about her earlier,” Davey confessed.

“ _Six_ years old, gone just like that,” Henryk said bitterly. “I stopped believin’ in _HaShem_ for a while after that. Your mam, bless her, never knew. For a while I thought she’d never be the same, but she managed to bounce back, mostly. Havin’ all of youse helped.”

“Does it fill the gap?” Jonny asked.

Henryk shook his head. “No. Susan ain’t Máire and Eleanor ain’t Sarah. Each kid is different. But with each new baby, it somehow makes the pain a little easier to bear. I think it’s because a little more love gets added to your life each time.”

* * *

 

Two days later, the Jacobs family found themselves anxiously pacing around the small apartment while Alannah moaned and raged in the back bedroom. They all opted to stay home from work when Alannah began having contractions around two in the morning. Even Henryk’s boss was okay with it—his own wife was heavily pregnant, and he understood Henryk’s concern. An uptown doctor, Dr. Barlow, was fetched by Jonny. After treating Crutchie two months ago when he’d been beaten in prison, the man had offered his free medical services to them. Something about the Jacobs family bewitched him, as they did everybody.

When night fell, Barlow emerged from the back room. “Mr. Jacobs, I need to speak with you.”

Henryk stood up, his bad leg trembling. “Is everything alright?” he said, his face ashen.

Davey and Jack exchanged concerned looks. Jack had come over immediately when he heard Alannah had gone into labor.

“Your wife has been in labor for a great deal of time,” Barlow said gravely. “I suspect that we might have another twin birth on our hands.” He eyed Essie and Les, the twins.

“Twins?” Henryk repeated.

“I’m not concerned. My nurse and I both believe that the first baby should be coming in the next forty-five minutes. Hang in there, Mr. Jacobs.” With that, he disappeared into the back bedroom.

“Twins,” Henryk said again, half to himself.

* * *

 

Davey knew his mother was over childbirth when she began cursing in Irish. He heard the squalling cries of his newest sibling. His father had been permitted to enter the bedroom when the first baby had come out. It was a girl. From the sound of it, it seemed the second baby was about to come.

Racetrack Higgins, a newsie pal of theirs, had taken Sammy, Lottie, Susan, and Eleanor to their friend Elmer’s flat. Elmer was the youngest of nine children, and his mother knew better than most that having the younger kids out of the way made the birth a lot easier on the family. Mam’s muffled shrieks had been reverberating through the tiny flat for hours now, and the little ones really needed to sleep. The arrangement was best for everyone.

“Just a little bit more, Mrs. Jacobs,” Dr. Barlow encouraged.

“He’s been saying that for three hours now,” Lou said with gritted teeth.

“Poor Mam,” Les said with a wince. “Sure glad I ain’t a girl.”

“Did we really hurt Mam that much when _we_ came out?” Essie asked Jonny.

“Mam was in birth for almost an entire day when you two came,” Davey said to the twins. Their eyes widened.

“Why she got so many kids if givin’ birth is this awful?” Crutchie asked. His eyes were screwed shut.

No one had an answer for that.

* * *

 

Finally, weak cries could be heard from the back bedroom. The Jacobs kids all lurched to their feet. Barlow opened the door. “Would you like to see them?” he asked with a twinkle in his tired eyes. Nodding, the small horde crept into the tiny bedroom. Henryk was holding a tiny baby while Alannah breastfed another.

“Two girls,” Henryk said with a proud look on his face.

To everyone’s surprise, Crutchie’s eyes filled up with tears. “They’re so _small_ ,” he sniffled. Jack slung an arm around his shoulder and nodded his agreement.

“They got names?” Sarah wanted to know.

Alannah said, “This little ‘un is Róisín Henye Jacobs.”

Henryk turned to Crutchie. “We thought since Jack named this baby, you could get to name this one.”

Crutchie’s eyes overflowed with tears. “ _Me_?” he said. “Really?”

“Of course, Alec. You’re our son; in fact, Davey was the one who suggested Samuel’s name when he was born. Ain’t that right, David?” Alannah said.

Davey nodded, his eyes transfixed on his little sisters.

Crutchie sat at the foot of the bed. “Can I hold her, Henryk?” he said quietly.

Henryk handed the baby to him. Crutchie held the baby as if she was the most precious treasure on earth. To him, she was.

“My _mutti_ …” Crutchie sniffled. “She was a good woman. A _great_ woman. Her name was Jennifer. I think in English, Jennifer would be Guinevere. Do… do youse like that?”

“Guinevere needs a middle name, too, Crutch,” Jack said gently. He swiped at his eyes, trying to be subtle and failing.

“My last name’s Morris,” Crutchie said, half to himself. “Morris, that ain’t a girl’s name. What sounds like Morris. Mor… Y’know, I always thought Morgen was a pretty name. It means ‘morning’ in German. Guinevere Morgen Jacobs. Is that alright?”

“It’s beautiful,” Alannah said. “Your mother would love it, Alec. I know she would. She’d be so proud of you.”

“You think so?” Crutchie said thickly. He looked down at little Guinevere and smiled. “ _Ich liebe dich, Jennifer_ ( **I love you, Guinevere** ).”

For the next hour, everyone squabbled over who got to hold which baby. Finally, Barlow ordered everyone to bed. “There will be plenty of time to get to know Róisín and Guinevere,” he assured the Jacobs family.

* * *

 

Race eyed the babies curiously. He had stopped over on the pretense that he wanted to see Crutchie, but everyone knew he wanted to meet the twins. Róisín, affectionately known as Rosie, was nestled in her mother’s arms. Crutchie held Jenny. He had given Guinevere that nickname. She blinked sleepily, her long eyelashes fluttering.

“What’re they called?” Race asked.

“Róisín and Guinevere,” Crutchie said with a touch of pride.

“Come again?” Race tilted his head.

“Rosie an’ Jenny,” Jack said.

“Why didn’t youse say that in the first place?” Race shook his head. “Ain’t never met a person who actually uses their _real_ name.”

“I go by Sarah, an’ that’s my real name,” Sarah said.

“I just go by Alannah,” Alannah added.

“You just got shut _down_ , Race,” Davey laughed.

“What’s your real name, Racer?” Les wanted to know.

Racetrack grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“It’s Antonio,” Jack said. He easily dodged Race’s half-hearted punch.

“Sounds Italian. Higgins is Irish, though, ain’t it?” Alannah said excitedly.

Race shrugged. “I ain’t sure, Missus Jacobs, my folks died when I was real little. I dunno what nationality they was.”

“I think he looks Irish. He’s got them big blue eyes,” Henryk said. “Whaddaya think, Alannah?”

Les poked Race’s face. “He’s got freckles, too. Plenty of folks have blue eyes an’ freckles, though,” he said. “ _N_ _í_ _l a fhios agam_ ( ** _I don’t know_** ).”

“Let your ma decide, Les, she’s the expert,” Henryk chided.

Alannah put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “Hmmm,” she said. “I would say at least half Irish. I got a sixth sense, an’ that’s what it’s tellin’ me.”

“Irish,” Race said, half to himself. “No wonder I like whiskey so much!”

They all burst out laughing.

* * *

 

After Race’s visit, the word spread about the new Jacobs babies. Specs, Kid Blink, Mush, Jojo, Buttons, Mike, Ike, Smalls, and so many others stopped by to meet Jenny and Rosie. They took turns holding them. Elmer even stopped by to drop off a cradle. As he was the youngest of nine children, his family no longer needed it. The Jacobs only had one; they had been having Rosie sleep in a basket that Jack found in a trash heap. Henryk and Elmer chatted for hours in Polish, and he ended up staying for dinner. Elmer soon became a regular fixture in the Jacobs apartment, too.

It took Katherine a week and a half to get down to Lower Manhattan to see the babies. She kissed Jack on the cheek, and tore across the room to look at them. “They’re beautiful, Mrs. Jacobs,” she said to Alannah.

“Thank you, Katie,” Alannah said. She looked at Katherine and then Jack. “Soon you will have one of your own.”

They sputtered and blushed, but Alannah knew. It might not happen for several years, but those two would get married. She would bet money on it.

* * *

 

After two months, Alannah went back to work. A woman in their building whose baby died during birth agreed to be the twins’ wet nurse during the day if the Jacobs watched her toddler son for a few hours every night. The woman ran a cigar-making business in her tenement, and she needed a few productive hours to herself. The arrangement worked out well for the both families.

“Take them upstairs every two hours so they can feed,” Alannah instructed Davey and Jonny before her, Sarah, and Lou headed to work. Lou had managed to secure her own job at the factory.

“Mam, that’s the fourth time you’ve told me,” Davey said with the patience of a saint. “They will be fine.”

“I’ve never left them for so long before, what if Róisín—“

“Mam, these are your twelfth and thirteenth babies! They will be _fine_ ,” Davey assured her, rocking Rosie back and forth. “Now go get to work. We’ve got this.”

“Harry!” Alannah called before she headed out the door.

“Yes, love?” her husband said, looking up from an extra newspaper Jack had brought back for him.

“If I come back to total chaos, ye ain’t gettin’ a good mornin’ kiss tomorrow,” she threatened. “That clear?”

“You don’t think I can handle the kids on my own?” Henryk said indignantly.

“No mornin’ kiss,” she said again before shutting the door behind her.

“Your mam’s a wicked woman,” Henryk said to Crutchie, who was sitting next to him. That made Crutchie grin.

“ _Ja,_ Vati,” he said. His eyes widened.

Henryk squinted in confusion. “Vati? What’s that mean?” Up until that point, Crutchie had just been calling Henryk and Alannah by their first names. Occasionally he would say Mam, but Crutchie had never called Henryk “Pop” once, as the rest of the man’s kids did.

“Means Dad in German,” Crutchie muttered. “You mind it?”

Henryk slung an arm around the boy’s bony shoulders. “Mind it, Crutch? I _love_ it!”

Watching from the kitchen, Davey grinned. He looked at his three newest siblings—Jenny napping in the cradle in the corner, Rosie in his arms, and Crutchie at the kitchen table—and tried to imagine his family without them.

He couldn’t.  

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a week ago and decided to go ahead and post it. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Shoutout to tuppeny, who suggested Crutchie name one of the babies after his mom :) I went back and forth between Jennifer and Guinevere, but finally decided on Guinevere. From what I could tell, Jennifer was not a very common name until the mid-twentieth century. I also adore the name Guinevere and the nickname Jenny for it.


End file.
